


Ain't it Drunky Now

by kayliemalinza



Series: Alcohol Annals [4]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Drunkenness, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-06
Updated: 2008-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are mysterious doings in a ballroom. Again. That's not really what this fic is about, though. What this fic is really about is Ianto being drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't it Drunky Now

**Author's Note:**

> Title adapted from the James Brown song, "Ain't it Funky Now." Set in Season 2, with brief spoilers for Captain Jack Harkness

They're pretty sure that Ianto is drunk. Drunk on _what_ they can't say, because it's two in the afternoon and they're nowhere near a pub. Jack, Gwen, and the most-likely inebriated Ianto are in a newly-opened ballroom that's filed complaints over the past few nights: unexplained noises, behavioral disturbances, boxes of vodka moving from one floor to another (that last bit may be important.) There was a Rift spike in the area a week before it all began, so the three members of the team without anything better to do headed for the SUV to find the source of the complaints.

"Don't get stuck in 1941 again!" Owen called after them as the cog door rolled shut. They heard Toshiko snipe something muffled in return and Ianto smirked, "At least if we do get stuck in 1941, Toshiko will be here to shoot Owen."

Gwen smiled. "It's so nice that everyone gets a turn," she said.

"Like the village bicycle," said Jack.

"No," said Ianto.

"No," said Gwen.

"But—" said Jack.

"No," said Ianto and Gwen.

More discussion occurred after that, but the discussion is not currently of interest (except, of course, for the not-that-rare occurrence of the Harkness Pout, which makes the girls swoon and the guys roll their eyes.) The current topic of marvel is Ianto, nose as red as a cherry, performing a loose-limbed jitterbug in a sunbeam. His shoes go _clack-shuffle_ on the parquet floor and he sways into a spin, blue and black striped tie flying out.

"Almost makes you wish there was music playing," says Jack.

"Ianto?" Gwen calls. "Are you feeling alright?"

Ianto doesn't answer, brows knit in concentration as he splays out his arms and begins to snap his fingers.

"Ok," says Gwen, turning to Jack. "He was on the comm with us most of the time, so nothing _too_ horrible could have happened, right?"

"...yeah," says Jack. He tilts his head to the side, still watching Ianto. "We split up, he took the second floor where the storerooms are—do you think he got into the vodka?"

"What, he saw a case and decided to go wild? Not likely," says Gwen. "We're on a job. And it's two o'clock in the afternoon!"

Jack shrugs one shoulder. "Ianto's a party animal."

Gwen looks at him.

Jack looks back.

Gwen looks _more_.

"Ok!" says Jack in surrender. "So he probably didn't get drunk the normal way. I'm going to get a little closer, see if he can tell us what happened." He creeps cautiously toward Ianto, hands outstretched. Gwen follows closely behind.

Ianto whirls to a stop and flings a pointer-finger at them. "Stop!" he cries.

Jack and Gwen stop.

Ianto announces solemnly, "It's Hammer Time."

There's a long pause. Gwen's face does various interesting things as she wavers between amused and worried. Jack just raises an eyebrow. "Are you going to do the M.C. Hammer dance?" he asks politely.

Ianto shakes his head sadly. "No," he moans. "I don't have the right trousers."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," says Gwen. "Maybe we could take you out shopping."

Jack gives her a sidelong look that says, Don't humor the loony, 'kay babe?

Gwen gives him a sidelong look right back (slightly obscured by her fringe) that says, Don't call me 'babe.' Unless, I mean, you really want to, then I guess it would be alright.

Jack turns his attention back to Ianto, who is giving them both a look that says (basically,) I'm drunk. As a skunk. But skunks have wee noses, and I'm self-conscious about my nose. I know I shouldn't be, but I can't help it. My nose is wee considering that it's a human nose, but it just can't compare to a skunk's. And I don't have a tail! Maybe I should be as drunk as a bird, and then I would have a tail feather, and I could _shake it_.

Ianto starts to dance again.

Jack rolls his eyes and crowds into Ianto's personal space before he can get back into the groove. "Ianto, Ianto. Stop dancing. You're behaving very strangely and we need to figure out why."

"I'm drunk. _Obviously_ ," says Ianto, still trying to boogie a little bit. Mostly he just wobbles.

Jack clasps Ianto's shoulders to keep him upright, and because he likes clasping people's shoulders. It's almost as good as holding hands. "Why are you drunk?" he asks. "Did you drink some alcohol?"

Ianto blinks at him, eyes slightly bloodshot. His nose is still very red, almost as red as the shiny inside of his lips. "No, I didn't drink anything," he says. His eyes widen suddenly. "Why am I drunk if I didn't drink anything?" he asks, voice rising with panic.

"That's what we're going to find out," Jack says. "But first, we're going to get you back to the Hub so Owen can take a look at you. Alright?" He studies Ianto in concern, grinning encouragingly when Ianto gives him a brave little smile in return.

Gwen has her cell phone out already. "This is going to be a riot," she mutters as she dials Owen's number.


End file.
